


through the fire and pain

by alxndrlightwoods



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Minor Injuries, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Oaths & Vows, POV Alec Lightwood, Pain, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rituals, Runes, Self-Sacrifice, Soulmates, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alxndrlightwoods/pseuds/alxndrlightwoods
Summary: Not many shadowhunters have parabatai. There’s a reason for that.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland
Comments: 7
Kudos: 165
Collections: DL;DR: Shadowhunters Fic, SHBingo





	through the fire and pain

**Author's Note:**

> fill for my "rune ceremony" square for Shadowhunters Bingo. title from through the fire and flames by dragonforce.
> 
> betad by [alexanderlightweight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderlightweight).

They say you come out of the ceremony changed.

They say you aren’t the same people who went into the chamber, the fire, the circle.

They say it’s like dying.

They say it’s like being reborn.

Not many shadowhunters have parabatai. There’s a reason for that.

Alec shivers in the warm room, goosebumps rising on his arms. He resists the urge to rub them, curling his hands into fists at his sides. The warmth from the braziers burning around the room isn’t enough to stop him from feeling cold from the anxiety curling through him. The thin pants he wears do nothing to shield him from the chill inside his skin.

He blows out a breath of air, annoyed with himself. Unclenching his hands and rolling his shoulders to release the tension he settles down as much as he can, taking the deep breaths he needs to center himself in meditation.

It won’t be long now. There’s nothing he can do to make it come faster — or slower.

And he needs a clear mind, if he’s going to make it through this. If _they’re_ going to make it through this.

It feels like only seconds have passed. But his internal count tells him it’s actually been four minutes when he blinks his eyes open at the sound at the door to the next chamber opening.

Alec shivers again before walking forward. The short distance into the next chamber feels longer than it should.

He pauses just inside the chamber, taking in the soft pulse of light coming from the walls. They breath like something living. The angelic glow comes from spires of _adamas_ growing like trees from the floor up the walls and curving over the ceiling.

He’s never been in a place that made him feel closer to Raziel than this. The light seems to beat in time with his heart.

Between one blink and the next, he notices Jace on the other side of the room. The tension leaks out of him. He can suddenly breathe easier, the world coming into sharper focus.

They step forward in unison, making their way to the low circular dip in the center of the room and arriving at the same time. Alec makes an abortive gesture to reach out to the other boy before stopping himself.

The corner of Jace’s mouth quirks up for a moment before he schools his expression as the Silent Brothers proceed into the room from the shadows.

 _Alexander Gideon Lightwood and Jonathan Christopher Wayland,_ the voice of the Silent Brother sounds in their minds, making Alec shiver again. The words have a weight to them that lays heavy on his shoulders.

 _You stand here before Raziel to pledge your lives to one another. Are you prepared to make the sacrifices necessary as you seek to bear the parabatai runes?_ the Brother continues, turning his face first toward one of them, then the other. He nods himself after they both indicate their agreement with dips of their heads.

The Brothers step forward, steles unlike Alec has ever seen held in their hands. They’re longer, thicker; they look almost like blades.

Alec closes his eyes as the Brother sets the stele to his skin.

Being deruned is an agony unlike any he’s ever experienced. He bites his cheek, blood flooding his mouth as he stays silent, no matter how much he wants to scream. He swallows the blood every time he dares relax his control enough.

He nearly sags in relief when the stele is lifted away from his skin for the final time and the Brother steps back.

The only rune he bears is the _enkeli_ on his outer arm, matched by the one on Jace’s inner forearm.

 _Which of you will make the first sacrifice?_ Alec isn’t sure which Brother asks, but he swallows and speaks up before Jace can.

“I will,” he says, voice clear, holding no hint of a waver despite his fear.

Jace is looking at him with wide, surprised eyes.

The first sacrifice paid is a harsh one. To bear no runes but the angel’s grace, growing weaker as the ritual goes on. The one who makes the first sacrifice is the one more likely to die.

Alec knows Jace was planning to claim it, confident in the harsh — but effective — training his father had given him, before he came to live with the Lightwoods. But Alec knows Jace hates being weak. He trains himself to exhaustion with every failure, with no care for the damage he does to himself in his fervor to fix the fault in his training. To make sure it never happens again.

Alec’s own penances for failure are quieter, kept secret. Carried out where no one can see.

Alec can’t stand to be the cause of Jace faltering.

More than that… so much more than that, Alec knows his own limits. He can bear weakness without the consequences Jace suffers.

It’s his duty. It’s one he never plans to fail.

Especially not when it comes to Jace.

He takes the stele the Silent Brother offers him and turns to Jace. He gives the other boy a reassuring smile to ease his troubled expression. Jace’s face smoothes out as he nods in acceptance and Alec steps forward to lay the stele to his skin.

He starts with Jace’s arm, drawing the runes they’d mapped out on each other’s skin in the dark nights leading up to this. He starts with the curves of the _strength_ rune over the top of Jace’s wrist and then moves up his arm to draw the spokes of _calm anger_ above Jace’s elbow. _Agility_ on Jace’s deltoid, _stamina_ over the ball of his shoulder, _nyx_ in the dip of his collarbone.

Alec can already feel the effects of his lost runes. He clenches his fingers around the stele to still the tremor in them. He pauses to take a breath, blinking sweat from his eyes. He feels overheated now instead of cold. Feverish. He swallows convulsively before pressing the stele to Jace’s skin again.

He recites the runes in his mind as he applies them — _heightened speed, accuracy, flexibility, surefooted —_ the grounding manta buzzes into white noise as time goes on.

He doesn’t realise he’s finished until Jace’s hand closes over his on the stele.

They’re on their knees. Alec has no idea when that happened. He sways in place, barely catching himself.

It takes him several moments to let go of the stele, relinquishing it to Jace.

He feels sick. His breathing is labored and while Jace has a fine sheen of sweat on his chest and brow, Alec is positively dripping with it. Without the stele to hold on to, his hands shake.

He sways again as his vision swims.

The pain of the rune being drawn on his skin is a blessing. Alec nearly slumps in relief Jace draws _strength, fortitude,_ and _equilibrium_ on his arm and shoulder. He can feel the weak pulse of them fortifying him. It grows stronger when Jace pushes his arm out of the way and draws _iratze_ on his flank.

Only a few of the runes really register to him after that — Jace’s hand gently pressing his head to the side as he applies a _deflect_ rune to Alec’s neck. His fingers on the back of Alec’s neck as he marks the lines of _calm anger_ on his back.

Time lags and drags.

He turns his head sluggishly to face the Silent Brothers when they step down to join them in the circle again.

 _The third sacrifice,_ the Silent Brother who takes the stele from Jace entones. _Ready yourselves._

The steles are placed to their skin simultaneously, the runes drawn in tandem. Every motion of the stele matched as the rune takes shape on their bodies. When the Silent Brother pulls the stele away from his skin, Alec feels off balance. Like he’s missing something.

He reaches across the circle for Jace instinctively, Jace reaching for him the same way. Their hands clasp each other’s forearms, slick with sweat, without thought.

Fire flares up around them.

When they open their mouths, their voices twine together as they recite the vows in synchronicity.

 _Entreat me not to leave thee,_ _  
_ _Or return from following after thee—_ _  
_ _For whither thou goest, I will go,_ _  
_ _And where thou lodgest, I will lodge._ _  
_ _Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God._ _  
_ _Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried._  
_The Angel do so to me, and more also,_  
_If aught but death part thee and me._

Awareness blooms with every word they speak, a golden thread forming in Alec’s soul and spinning out across the circle. Into Jace.

He cries out in agony when they speak the last words of the vow, sharp pain blooming in the core of him, unlike anything he’s ever felt. He hears his cry echoed by Jace, inside and out.

There’s a dizzying rush of feeling and sensation running through his body, through his mind. A tangle of emotions that are _his_ yet _not,_ the certainty of being _more._ The sharp pull of a needle, tying off a thread.

They collapse in on each other as everything snaps into place.

Alec’s body feels numb. His mind is slow and sluggish, overwhelmed by the reality of feeling Jace burning through his entire being.

His throat feels tight. His voice is hoarse when he says Jace’s name.

“Alec,” Jace returns, voice jubilant despite how raw he sounds. He gives a choked laugh that turns into a cough. Alec wraps his arm around Jace and presses his hand to Jace’s back as Jace shakes against him.

 _“Parabatai,”_ Jace breathes out, voice wondering. Alec can hear him tasting the word on his tongue.

Alec presses his fingers to the rune on Jace’s hip, unheeding of how tender it must be. He traces the lines of it, the loops familiar from all the times he’s done this before.

He tilts his head to press their foreheads together.

He can’t keep the giddy happiness they feel from his voice when he says it back.

_“Parabatai.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just say it's bullshit that the book!steles were amazing looking and the show ones are bland as fuck?
> 
> Come join us in [The Hunter's Moon](https://discord.gg/RhZPtsd) discord server.


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